


Truly Madly Deeply

by Another_jane_doe



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4846706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Another_jane_doe/pseuds/Another_jane_doe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...If he isn't going to let me in...I'm going to make my own way in...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. Yep. I have no idea what I am doing. And yes, I start all my fics with that line. Because I never have any idea about what I'm doing. And, uh, I'm not sure about this one. It's a common plot, but I love the plot and the whole thing just came to me this morning. Like I had the whole first chapter downloaded in my head. After this I have no idea what's going to happen. I'm sorry if this turns out horrible. But thank you for giving it a try.

**_Truly Madly Deeply_ **

**_Chapter One: The Forgotten_ **

We weren't exactly childhood friends. No, we were far from something like that.

He was the son of the unbelievably rich neighbor.

Even as a kid, he was used to people obeying him, bowing down to him. Whenever he looked at someone, his scarlet eyes seemed to pierce through the soul. At the age of thirteen, he was always perfectly well mannered, perfectly prim, perfectly dressed and perfectly, well, _perfect_. Heck, I never saw a speck of dust in his shoes, let alone mud.

My Mom said it was because of his family. Even now I remember her saying _, "Be gentle with him, Kouki. He lost his mother at a very young age and Akashi-san is never really around. That's why he's always so stiff. That poor boy probably doesn't have anyone to take care of him properly."_

On the other hand, I was the daughter of the somewhat rich neighbor.

I didn't inherit any of my mother's beauty or my father's amazing brilliance in business and his confidence. No, I didn't have any of those. I was just an ordinary girl with even more ordinary looks. I had ordinary grades. I liked wearing ordinary clothes and my ordinary shoes were always muddy because of my jumping in puddles.

So I guess it wasn't exactly a surprise that I stayed far, far away from him. Like as far as humanly possible. The only times we came face to face were in festivals or in occasions when our family had dinner with theirs. Even then, I never dared to glance at him. My parents always tried to coax me to talk to him and every time I was like, _no way! Did you even see that kid? He's the scariest person I'd had the misfortune of meeting!_

 

It all changed one Tuesday.

We went to the same middle school. Actually, I don't remember ever being separated from him. We went to the same elementary school, same middle school, same high school, heck, even the same college. And when the time came, we worked in the same company.

That particular day, I was in the field, sitting under the shades of a tree. It was lunch time and I was drawing.

One thing I wasn't ordinary in was art. I know it sounds like bragging, but I had good hands. You could even say I had talent. At thirteen, my dream was to major in Art and become a great artist like Van Gogh or Picasso. I was naive, I was a kid.

I don't remember what I was drawing that day. But I remember when I felt someone standing behind me and my shock when I saw Akashi Seijuro.

He simply kept staring at my drawing. His eyes were cold and judgemental. I think a whole minute had passed like that; me staring at him and waiting for him to speak, him staring at my drawing and, well, _staring_.

Even when he was not looking at me, I felt like he was piercing my soul.

Then finally, he said, "It's a nice drawing. Are you in the art club?"

My answer came out more like a question. "Um, no?"

"You should be. It's a nice drawing."

I don't know what possessed him that day, or what possessed me. I just remember thinking, ' _what the fuck?'_

We spent the next ten minutes conversing about art and school and family. It was the normal ' _yes, and how is your mother, please give her my regards'._ At some point, I think we even talked about my horrible grades in Physics.

All in all, it was a pretty normal conversation. Something that two middle school students would do. Something that I didn't know he was capable of having.

I spent the rest of the day thinking about him.

The next week, we had a family dinner with them. But when we were all sitting down and food was served, I was back in my old self. Furiously tapping my foot, rubbing my fingers, keeping my head down and avoiding any and every kind of eye contact. Yep, it was the same ol' Kouki.

Then, after dinner, Akashi Seijuro stood up and offered me to go in a stroll with him in the garden.

For the first few minutes, I was totally freaked out. All my life I was terrified of Akashi Seijuro. Not to mention how grateful I was because he never took notice of me. And now suddenly he was talking to me. We were having normal civil conversations.

It became clear when he mentioned his own interest in art. He just wanted someone to share his opinions with. And I could relate to that. There weren't many thirteen year olds who liked reading about art in their spare times.

It wasn't long before we were in a full fledged conversation and we came to know each other's preferences. He was a fan of Kano Masanobu and his Japanese style of _suiboku_.

Over the years, I found out many other things about him. We didn't have much in common. He was an avid reader while I liked spending my time playing video games. He was good in Physics while Biology was my preferred subject. He liked slow music while I liked rock. I also learned to distinguish his different attitude towards people. I learned how he became too calm when he was angry, how he rubbed his thumb over the pointing finger when he was worried or nervous, how his eyes twinkled when he was happy, and how he could always perfectly school his face in an emotionless, cold mask.

After that night, we started to talk more. The next week, we spent every evening together in the library. Two weeks later, we were constantly over each other's house to study. A month later, we became good friends. Two months later, we were spending all our times together. Throughout middle school, we were practically attached to the hips. We even studied for our high school entrance exam together because we were determined to go into the same school.

I thought we had each other completely figured out. He always knew when I was feeling down because of the snarky comments about my not-so-extraordinary-looks from other girls or when I was worried shitless because of my failing grades. I always knew when he was sad and missing his mother or when he was feeling too pressured because of all the expectations as an Akashi.

I simply felt lost when he couldn't remember me anymore.

 

It was our first year in high school and almost the end of basketball season.

Even in high school, we were always attached together. The most awkward question we used to face was if we were dating and the weirdest one was why, like others, I wasn't terrified of him. To answer the first one, I always smiled and said we weren't and we were only friends, but great friends.

To answer the second question...well, I guess I still don't know the answer to that. Once I was terrified of him and then I wasn't anymore. It was as simple as that.

It was a match against Shutoku High.

I don't remember exactly what happened. Something about the ball hitting him too hard and him somehow ending up hitting the benches. But I do remember the blood and the people and the medics and me trying to get down from the bleachers and to him.

He was unconscious for four hours.

During the third hour, Midorima Shintarou, the shooter of Shutoku High, came to visit.

I was sitting in the waiting room. No one except family was allowed to see him.

"You're that girl." He simply stated when he saw me.

I was worried sick about my best friend, I was having a migraine and I didn't think I could stand without throwing up. Seeing a green haired guy with a teddy bear in his hand didn't exactly help the mood.

"What girl?" I deadpanned.

"The one in the bleachers. You were screaming."

I tried to remember. "No, I wasn't."

"You were really loud." He said. "I think you were screaming his name."

I huffed. "What are you doing here?"

"This is my father's hospital." I kept staring at him. He sighed."I wanted to check if he was okay."

"Oh." Well, maybe he was feeling guilty. "He isn't conscious yet."

This time, he let out a small 'oh'.

"What's the bear for?" I asked.

"It's my lucky item for the day."

"...okay."

"You know", he said, "they won't allow anyone other than family right now."

I nodded. "Yeah. I'll just wait until they do."

Maybe he wanted to suggest that I should go home and get some rest because, well, I knew for a fact that I looked utterly horrible. But he didn't.

Before leaving, he said, "I'm sorry about your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend." I automatically denied.

"Oh." He looked surprised."okay."

Then he left.

And I spent the longest four hours of my life worrying about my best friend.

 

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

That was the first thing he said when he saw me.

"Seijuro," his father said worriedly, "don't you remember Kouki?"

"Kouki?" He was surprised. "You mean our neighbor's daughter? But she looks so..."

He didn't need to finish that sentence. And I didn't need to hear the rest of it.

I excused myself and found my way to the bathroom.

 

Seijuro had lost the last four years of his memory. That meant he was once again stuck in the first year of middle school. He had forgotten everything that had happened during these four years.

He had forgotten everything about me.

He was in the hospital for a week. Other than his amnesia, there weren't anything else wrong.

Except _everything_ seemed wrong.

I only visited him when he was asleep. I always left him a bouquet of flowers. For five days straight I only saw him sleeping. Even by my standards, it was creepy as heck. I mean, watching him only when he was asleep? What was he, Sleeping Beauty?

But that didn't stop me from visiting.

On my sixth day, when I was leaving the room, he spoke up.

"What are you doing?"

I didn't know he was awake. So, yeah. He scared the hell out of me.

When I looked at him, he was sitting on the bed with his lips pressed in a thin line and his face perfectly schooled from all emotions.

"I didn't know you were awake." I said. "Sorry for intruding."

"Everyday you come and leave flowers, why?"

I averted my eyes from him and looked down at my shoes. It had been a long time since I had felt his piercing gaze at me. "It's to wish you the best and a good recovery."

"I think I'm recovering just fine without the flowers."

"Okay." I simply nodded. "I'll take them back then."

He stopped me. "No, wait." He didn't speak for a while and when I looked up he was staring at his lap.

I knew what was coming.

"Listen, I know, or more like I've heard, we were good friends. But..." He looked up, "I just found out I've lost four years of my memory and I'm in high school and it's just...overwhelming and..."

"It's okay." I decided to rid him from the pain. "I understand."

"You do?"

"Yes, you want me to get out from your life and give you some peace of mind because you can't go all buddy-buddy with a total stranger."

Seijuro actually had the decency to look uncomfortable. "I wouldn't put it like that..."

"But it's the same, isn't it?" I said. "Don't worry. I kind of saw this coming."

"I'm sorry." He sounded sincere. "I just need some time to adjust..."

_...I also knew when he was simply lying. It had taken me some time, but I'd managed to figure it out. I knew he definitely wanted_ _me the heck out of his life..._

"It's okay." I reassured. "You can have all the time you want."

That was the last time I visited him.

... _he wanted me the heck out of his life...didn't mean he was going to get it though..._

 

For the two years of high school, I studied like crazy. I worked hard. My favorite video games gathered dust. My sketch book wasn't touched in ages. I got in my preferred college with blood and sweat, literally.

On the first day of college, Akashi gave a speech in the opening ceremony. He had the highest mark in the entrance exam.

He was going to do a major in business. I decided to go with my dream and major in Art.

I was careful to avoid him and made sure we never crossed paths.

My college years were filled with caution and hard work.

When we graduated, Akashi joined his father's company and I started to look for my way in. It didn't take long. In a week, I was sitting in front of Akashi Seijuro in an interview board.

"You." He simply stated.

"I know what you're thinking." I played innocent. "I just need the job."

"Are you kidding me? Why do you even want this position? I thought you majored in Art."

"I want to start small. And I want to prove myself to my father." He kept staring at me. "We had a fight. He wants me to marry but I don't want that right now and I need to show him that I can take care of myself." He didn't even blink. "Believe me, this has nothing to do with you. Your father suggested the position to me and I said I'd give it a try. I know you feel like I'm stalking you but I don't think I need to remind you that I didn't even look at you once for all thsee years. If I don't get a chance here, I'll simply start looking for other jobs. I won't keep pestering you about it."

He sighed. "You have the qualities we require and recommendations, even if you're not exactly from this field..."

Huh! I didn't know I could lie this well. Or maybe I didn't . Maybe he saw right through me. And maybe he was possessed, that was why he gave me the job.

Either way, the next day, I joined as Akashi Seijuro's personal assistant.

 

.... _if he isn't going to let me in....I am going to make my own way in...._


	2. Relationship with Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Working as the secretary of Akashi Seijuro was like dancing a tango with the devil."  
>  _-Furihata Kouki ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so SORRY!
> 
> Please read this chapter again before reading chapter 3. I had to do some last minute editing in this one and added a new part in the end. It's small, but it felt like it would flow better here. Sorry for the inconvenience.
> 
> PLEASE READ THIS CHAPTER AGAIN. THANK YOU.

Midorima looked at the files when they landed on the table with a _thud_. His glare zeroed in on me when I literally crashed on the seat across him.

"You're late." He grumbled.

"By five minutes. Stop being a douche." I grumbled back. I snatched his coffee mug and took a big gulp. "Oh this is good. Order me some of that, will you?"

Midorima seemed offended by my manhandling his coffee. "You look like a wreck."

"Thanks." I started to go through the files.

"I'm serious..."

"Me too. Coffee. Now."

He sighed and got up from his seat. When he came back with the order, he placed the tray in front of me. "Got your usual."

"Thanks."

He watched me going through the files furiously. "I thought you said you were free this evening?"

"I was, until Akashi's psychiatrist called and fired himself. Apparently he was too overwhelmed with today's session."

"He did that thing with his eyes, didn't he?"

"Hm-hm. With a pair of scissors."

"So you're trying to find another one for him? What, is it the fourth one?" I shrugged, not looking up from the papers. "Well, where is he now?"

"I just dropped him off at the bar."

"The bar? He's out drinking while you're working your ass off?"

"I am his secretary, Midorima. I am _supposed to_ work my ass off.”

He sighed and pushed up his glasses, something he always did whenever he was frustrated. "Not that I care, but you don't look very well, you know? You need some proper rest."

"Well, considering I have loads and loads of paperwork that needs to be sorted and an art piece I have to complete in two days and an art exhibition I have to plan and, yes of course, I have to find a psychiatrist ASAP," I scoffed. "I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon."

"Seriously, look at you." Midorima huffed. "I am a cop and even I get more time off than you." He looked down at his new cup of coffee. "This is nonsense..." He said absentmindedly.

"Ohh no..." I cut him off. "No you don't. I have enough in my plate without you going all apeshit with guilt, Midorima. I had a very crappy day and I can hardly keep my eyes open. If you start bawling now, I cannot console you."

Midorima snorted. "I do not bawl. And I do not feel guilty over such petty things. In fact, if back then I knew how much of an imbecile he really is, I would've hit him harder so he'd lost all his memories."

I shook my head and went back to my papers. "What's your lucky item today?" In a blink, there was a pink hairbrush in his hand."Wow, did they ask it to be pink?"

"Getting the color right is crucial."

I nodded, faking innocence. "Yes, very."

"Shut up! Considering your situation, you should start heeding Oha Asa's signs too."

"Uh-huh. Definitely. I'll get to it right after I lose my mind from all of Akashi's kinks."

 

 

Working as the secretary of Akashi Seijuro was like dancing a tango with the devil. Not to mention it was in the fiery pits of hell. Yes, of course, the dance floor was made of incandescent lava. How else were you supposed to see one Furihata Kouki jumping on her toes.

It had been almost two years since I started working for Akashi Seijuro. One year and nine months to be exact.

It didn't take me long to figure out that while Akashi-Seijuro-the-fifteen-years-old-teenager was easy to deal with (That is when you got to know him), Akashi-Seijuro-the-twenty-three-years-old-businessman was nothing but a pompous pain in the fucking arse.

Let's start with his day to day life.

For one, he had this weird idea that a secretary was supposed to take care of each and every task of his daily life. Hence the title ‘Personal’. And when I say each and every task, I mean each and every task. It was to the point where I even had to wake him up almost every morning.

Really, I was just glad that I wasn't born a guy. I was relieved from taking care of his nature duties at least.

Akashi also had the tendency to say ‘fire’ at every intervals.

No matter what, if he did not like any of my decisions, he’d say ‘You're fired Furihata.’ And then he would proceed with said decision with a very smug face like it was his idea to begin with. As of tonight, I’d been fired exactly five hundred and sixty-six times. Heck he’d say ‘fired’ even when I went to wake him up in the morning. It was like his version of ‘good morning, Furihata’ to me.

I still couldn't decide if he was like this with everyone or if he just thought that it was his job as my boss to make my life a living hell. I had a feeling it was the later.

Somehow, along the way, we had deteriorated from our bestest of friends status and now had the supposedly commercial relationship of a boss and secretary. (Wow. That sounds like some cheap porn movie.)

Well.

At least I was there with him.

 

 

Midorima dropped me off at my apartment after dinner. Most of the dinner had gone by with me, my papers and my coffee. There were occasional protests and frowns from Midorima too. No matter what the guy said, he hated it when he was ignored by people. And we hadn't really talked much in the last few months. It had been busy with work. There was also the case of my first art exhibition which was in less than a week.

And, somehow, along the way, Midorima and I had become weird ass friends.

It wasn't intentional. After Akashi's accident, I was just always at the hospital and he was just always there lurking on the hallways. He insisted that it was because of his dad’s job. But then one day, I heard him apologising to Akashi's father.

_“I'm sorry. I didn't mean something like that to happen. Please forgive me.”_

He was the one who threw the ball. It was a miscalculated shot.

I wasn't sure what brought us together. Maybe it was because of his awkward attempts at consolation even when he had his own guilt. Maybe it was _my_ attempts of _him_ consoling when I, myself was ridden with grief. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was none.

We just felt like we had something in common. A somewhat similar nightmare we could share.

 

 

Even with pulling an almost all nighter, I couldn't find any other decent psychiatrists. Almost all the psychiatrists of Tokyo were at some point Akashi's counsellor. And all of them were scared shitless of him. At around three in the morning, I gave up and crashed on the bed.

Who knew it was this hard to find a psychiatrist.

 

 

Exactly an hour later, my phone blared to life.

“What?”

“Did you find a psychiatrist?” Midorima sounded breathless.

“Huh!”

“Yes or no?!”

I flailed around until my hand hit the switch of the bedside lamp and then stared at the alarm clock. 4:03 a.m.

“You..” I stuttered, too shocked to get anything out. “Why are you…?”

“Furihata!”

That snapped me out of my sleep addled jumbled mind. “No, I didn't. Why are you calling me this late for _this_?”

Was that a relieved sigh? “I know someone. A psychiatrist.”

I scrambled to get my hands on pen and paper. “Talk.”

“Her name is Kuroko Tetsuya. She's a…” He stopped for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts.

“...a friend.”

 

 

 

Months ago, I had woken up in the middle of the night with a queasy feeling in my stomach. I felt like I was going to throw up. So I called Midorima and asked if he could meet immediately.

I needed to see someone.

Someone.

_Someone._

_Even if I knew that I could never have that someone._

I just couldn't stand being alone. And I desperately needed someone to tell me that I wasn't going mad.

Midorima met me in an all night cafe. He noticed the blood shot eyes, but chose not to say anything. I saw his purple teddy bear, but for once couldn't find the energy to mock him.

Instead I blurted out.

_“I think I'm in love with Akashi Seijuro.”_

Midorima actually had the guts to look irritated.

_”You're just figuring it out?”_

It seemed all my life changing moments were spent thinking _THE FUCK?!_

So I had just realized that I was in love with my best friend (should I add ex?), had confessed about it to another friend and that Horoscope Maniac didn't even have the decency to look surprised.

I had vaguely wondered if he had also foreseen this from his signs. Was Sagittarius and Scorpio one of those highly compatible pairs?

Now, months later, I felt like I had finally found a way to get back at him when I learned about Kuroko Tetsuya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was crap.
> 
> Um, just a side note in case anyone hasn't realised it yet. Furihata Kouki is a girl, so is Kuroko.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	3. Hidden Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She was brave in spite of her fragile looks. I, on the other hand, was nothing but a coward in my heart.”   
> - _Midorima Shintarou_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry guys, but can you please, READ CHAPTER TWO again? I've added a new part in it. I know it's a bit of an inconvenience but I thought it fit there better.
> 
> SO PLEASE READ CHAPTER TWO again. Only the last bit.

_One of my most cherished memories is of a hand. A hand so pale like snow and so thin and so...fragile. For some odd reason, it reminded me of a full bloomed cherry blossom._

_That hand was reaching out to me._

_I had never seen hands so strong. It seemed to me like they could even hold up the sky._

 

I had always been awkward around people. The odd one in friendly gatherings. It was the same as a child. It didn't help any with my height and hair. Even in daycare I was the tallest boy, and with my green hair and glasses it was no better. I was always the centre of unwanted attention. 

Elementary school.

Middle school.

I never had any real friends. Not until high school; not until I’d met Furihata Kouki. (Our meeting was nothing but a misfortune, but it was obviously a play of fate. Either way, even if I wouldn't admit it out loud, our friendship was something I cherished dearly)

The closest I had someone akin to a friend before that was Kuroko Tetsuya. But I was reluctant to call her that. 

I didn't want to be _a friend_ to her. I wanted something much more. 

Something I thought I could never have. 

We first met in the busy hallways of middle school. 

In my last year of elementary school, I happened to come across a show of Oha Asa. It struck me as odd. Someone who was always the victim of mocking and bullying _just because_ of being socially awkward and impossible height and, _for god’s sake_ , hair colour, someone like _me_ , could not believe that you could have a good day or avoid any and every kind of misfortune just by having a specific object.

That day’s lucky item was red pen. 

For the first time, nobody mocked me. Nobody bullied me. Not for once.

From then on, my first priority was to find my lucky item of the day. 

It was a different story in middle school. People started to pick on me because I always had some kind of odd item on my person.

It was one of those days. 

Someone had shoved me from behind, making me fall flat on my face. By the time I managed to sit up, everyone was laughing. Some of them looked at me with pity. Nobody protested. It wasn't the first time for something like that to happen. I was familiar with it.

What I wasn't familiar with, was the girl crouching over me. 

_”Are you okay?”_

She had the nerve to ask me that. 

She even had the nerve to offer me her hand. 

_”Here.”_ She had said. _”Get up”_

I didn't take her hand. 

It is one of my greatest regrets. 

 

Her name was Kuroko Tetsuya. She was a classmate. I had never seen her before (although, ‘noticed’ would be a better a term). She had a weak presence. One of those faces that easily blended into the crowd. 

(But when I did ‘notice’ her, she was all I could see)

We never hung out much. She tried to, sometimes. We talked. But it never got far. I always ran away. But she never stopped trying. For a girl who hardly showed any emotion, had a weak presence and was so very _blunt_ , she was very persistent. Throughout middle school, she tried to coax me out of my shell. She offered to have lunch with me. She asked me what books I liked to read. She even tried to discuss about my lucky item of the day once. 

None of them worked. I always got nervous.

Although it didn't take long for me to figure out that I was in love with her.

I was in love with Kuroko Tetsuya.

I vowed never to utter a word of it to anyone.

 

We went to different high school. After that, we didn't have much contact. My secret was kept into the deepest darkest corner of my conscious (which happened to be under a pile of clothes inside my closet. It was a picture, the only one if I might add, of us together taken on an occasion in middle school).

I had thought about confessing…

In my imagination, it always ended with her brushing me off like a speck of dirt, or worse yet, with bashing my face in. 

In other words, I could never muster up the courage.

And how could I. To me, Kuroko Tetsuya was something from the other side. We weren't much different and had many things in common. But in some way, we were nothing alike. She was brave in spite of her fragile looks. I, on the other hand, was nothing but a coward in my heart. 

The thought of her reciprocating my feelings was like a dream. 

And so, throughout middle school, instead of trying to build up a friendship, I ran away every time.

_Maybe, just maybe, if I keep denying it, if I keep acting strong, keep telling myself 'I'm okay', maybe then, it won't hurt that much._

 

Either way, I didn't see her again until the third year of high school.

(Yes, it hurt to not see her for so long. But I was also relieved, I didn't have to rack up my gray cells to come up with new excuses to avoid her.)

I ran into her in Maji Burgers and found out my classmate Aomine Daiki was friends with her from the girls basketball team of middle school. 

Fortunately, I didn't have to do much talking that one time. Aomine filled up the tense silence between us with her endless chatter about basketball. I was more than happy to let her take the lead. But when Aomine left early because of some family issues, we were left alone. 

She had given me a very odd look. “It's been awhile, hasn't it Midorima-kun?”

I had wondered what she meant by that.

We ended up exchanging numbers.

I couldn't say I was happy. 

I was determined to forget about her. It was the reason I chose Shutoku as high school. Because I knew she was going to Seirin and there was no way we were ever going to cross paths. 

It seemed fate was very much against this idea because when I attended the Police Academy I found Aomine Daiki and Kagami Taiga as my class companions. Both of whom just happened to be best friends with Kuroko Tetsuya.

It became worse as I was partnered with them when I became a detective. 

 

There was a reason why I never mentioned Kuroko to Furihata. Mostly because it was a bit hard to talk about her. Partially because I knew Kuroko had pursued a profession as a psychiatrist. And I refused to let her anywhere near Akashi. (Mostly because I was afraid that maniac would hurt her, partially because said maniac happened to be devilishly handsome and a very well off businessman. Yes I know it was a very possessive act for an unrequited love.) and at times I felt terribly guilty when I saw Furihata struggling to find a good enough psychiatrist. 

 

That day, after having dinner with Furihata and dropping her off at her apartment, I ran into Aomine.

It had been a long day; not to mention a particularly long dinner which was spent with Furihata, once again trying to find a psychiatrist and I spending my time watching her. Obviously it was one of those times when I had my occasional guilt trips. (I also had never come to terms with what I did to Akashi in high school, even if the ball had hit him unintentionally) 

I stopped by a departmental store on my way home. And when I went to pay for my drink, I found Aomine in the line. 

After the usual small talk, she dropped off the bomb.

“Oh yeah. Me and Kagami’s going to meet with Tetsu this weekend. Wanna come?”

I tried to hide my grimace. They always asked me that whenever they had a hang out with Kuroko, never mind that I always tried my best to refuse.

“Sorry, but I’m visiting my family this weekend.” 

She shrugged. “Too bad. We’re going to meet her fiancé.”

“What?” I thought. _Am I having problems with hearing? Should I see a doctor now before it's too late?_ “What are you talking about?”

Aomine looked surprised. “Didn't I tell you? Tetsu’s engaged. Her boyfriend proposed to her last Wednesday.” 

 

When I came home, I sat in front of my closet and stared at it long and hard. 

I don't remember what I was thinking or for how long I sat there. But I do remember wondering, _Is it worth it?_

I don't remember when I fell asleep either. 

But I remember dreaming. 

I dreamt of a pale, _pale_ hand. It looked so fragile and so small. But it belonged to someone so strong and fearless; it seemed like she could even hold up the sky. 

I woke up sweating. I didn't bother to turn up the lights; instead I madly dug through a pile of clothes and unearthed a carefully hidden memory. In it Kuroko had her face bared of any emotions like always. But there was the shadows of a smile in her lips and her eyes danced with amusement. I, on the other hand, had my face sat in a scowl and with my shoulders hunched as I attempted to make my unusually tall self somewhat small beside Kuroko’s tiny figure. In that photograph, her head barely crossed my shoulder as I stood beside her. 

And I decided, I wanted to be there, like that, with her, beside her, always, forever. 

I was panting with excitement when I called Furihata and sighed with relief when she said that she hadn't found a psychiatrist. 

I didn't feel guilty, not one bit, when I told her about Kuroko.

Didn't I say that I was very possessive even if it was an unrequited love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, I don't know. This was a bit interesting to write, and flowed more easily than than the previous chapter. 
> 
> Oh this is also important, do you think I should change the title of the story? I think I should. I'm thinking about naming it 'Shut Out of Pardise' because it seems to fit better with the storyline. The current title kind of indicates the story as a romance fic, but it's not exactly that. It's a bit dark, and there is also crime and mystery. Please let me know what you think.
> 
> And thank you for reading. And the kudos. And many many many thanks to Lava for the reviews!!


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